


The Colors Of You

by girlmeetsyoi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Artist AU, Artist Katsuki Yuuri, Artist Victor Nikiforov, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmeetsyoi/pseuds/girlmeetsyoi
Summary: Artist AU where Viktor is a successful artist yet lacks inspiration, while Yuuri is an artist that fails to rise to the top of the art community, despite being really talented himself. They crossed path one day, and everything changes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yoooo, so this is my first ever Victuuri/Viktuuri fic, and uhhhh it may suck??? Honestly, who knows, it's up to u guys to tell me, mmkay? Thanks so so much and have a gr9 day :>

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He, Viktor Nikiforov, out of all people, lacks inspiration? It sounds as ludicrous as the Sun circles around the Earth and not the other way around, doesn't it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter and Yikes™ I'm already scared!!!! Hope y'all will like it, then!! :>

"Mr. Nikiforov, the awards ceremony has started."

 _Ah, that was fast_ , Viktor muses as he looks up from his phone and sees a young woman standing in front of him. Time seems to be on a run these days, and Viktor must admit that he's negligent on catching up. Nevertheless, he slips the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, while giving a quick glance at the watch.

"Well, better get moving, then!" he says cheerfully to the woman. As he leaves, Makkachin comes trotting up to him, whining and nipping on the man's coat.

Viktor can't help but smile at the sight. "Makkachin, I'm coming back very soon, so be a good boy for me, 'kay?"

He squats down next to his poodle and pets him affectionately, earning himself a few licks, before following the woman out into the hall. Behind the closed door, Viktor can still hear Makkachin scratching desperately. It made his heart break, seeing Makkachin this distressed.

It's one of those weeks again, where he's received dozens of invitations from exhibition managers and artists, practically _begging_ him to go to their competitions and art releases, as well as other fanciful things. To say the truth, he only ever attends a few of them, others he makes up excuses for his lack of presence, which miraculously works in most cases.

Today is, unfortunately, _not_ one of those cases.

Yakov had made a clear statement to Viktor this morning, that if he wasn't to show up for this year's Annual Spring Arts Exhibition to collect his prize (first place, again), he would personally be the one to strangle him. As charming as it may sound, especially from someone like Yakov, he'd rather if that doesn't happen, so he had no other choices but to reluctantly agree.

And now, he's here, surrounded by a group of unusually enthusiastic female artists, bombarding him with 1001 questions he would be glad to answer, if he actually had all the time in the world.

He sighs, and treats himself to a mouthful of champagne. It's going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

 

It takes Viktor a while to escape from the buzzing of the party (and the dedicated female artists), but he's alone now, in the exhibition room, and the drawings, besides himself, are supposedly the only witnesses that know he's here. Inhaling deeply, Viktor recognizes the strong familiar scent of oil color filling his lungs, and smiles sadly.

How long will he be able to draw, to paint, to this homey smell anymore, now that he's running out of inspiration?

He, Viktor Nikiforov, out of all people, _lacks inspiration?_ It sounds as ludicrous as the Sun circles around the Earth and not the other way around, doesn't it? Maybe, just maybe, the norm of life has finally caught up with him, and his biggest fear is coming to reality. Art has always played a big part of his life; it was something that made Viktor, well, Viktor.

But years of winning, of earning the spotlight whenever he steps into a room, he reckons, have lost its means.

Viktor looks at the vivid paintings surrounding him. He smiles gently at the work of Christopher Giacometti, with his prominent arousing, mature style; this year has been an interesting year for artists, and Chris was no exception. The lad shared the stage with Viktor back at the ceremony, standing at second place. _He definitely deserves it,_ Viktor thought, being one of the few lucky people who witnessed how hard Chris had worked for this painting.

They still have so much to paint, to inspire. _Not like me_ , he thinks bitterly to himself.

Viktor then moves on to other artists' works, and there was some he recognized, some he didn't, and one that somehow managed to caught his interest.

It was one hell of an astonishing work. Despite the basics what were rudely ignored, it gives off this aura that Viktor can't seem to put into words. It was sad, and depressing, yet intriguingly thoughtful, and touching to the very least.

The colors, they seem to speak to him, reaching into something hidden in him. The painting was a reflection of him, his soul, _everything_. Hence the name "Mirror". Well played.

Viktor searches for a name, anything that indicates the creator of this masterpiece.

Ah, and there it was.

_Katsuki Yuuri._

Japanese, if he's not mistaken. Might have bumped into him before, or not, since the artists’ world is so vast, Viktor cannot be sure.

_No prize?_

What in the world? He has finally known the man’s name and is entirely shocked that a work like this, has no praise, no recognition to it.

Well, if that's the case then now he just needs to find Mr. Katsuki, and offer him a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have a world famous artist as a tutor. This lad needs a new start, especially with such talent. And who could resist an opportunity to have Viktor Nikiforov's guidance? Not anyone that's still walking and breathing on this planet, that's for sure.

So with a final glance at the painting, Viktor goes back to his waiting room, where Makkachin excitedly pounces up and down, as his owner frantically search for a flight from Russia to Japan.

_Katsuki Yuuri, I’ll make you win the Annual Spring Arts Exhibition, just you wait._


End file.
